Who He Is Poem by Timothy Branch

Supper commenced.
The betrayer planted a kiss.
Be swift, I have sin to defeat.
Thirty pieces of silver, is that the price?
Accusations unsubstantiated.
The audience chants wickedly for their delightful torment of one sacrificed for even them.
One robber chose to be lost. One chose paradise.
Darkness abounded in the hour in which a bitter drink He disdainfully refrained from drinking.
The earth then quaked and nothing still went unshaken.
Surely He was the Son of God. Understanding such should not be this hard.